CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
A few hours later, at one a.m. Aramis woke and rubbed his eyes, swinging his legs from his perch and standing. Stretching out his back, he looked around, forgetting where he was for a moment.
Athos was still asleep, curled on his side, facing the wall. As his eyes grew accustomed to the dim light from the oil lamp, he realised he could not see Martina. He walked softly to the end of the cellar, but she was not there. He strode across to the door and found it was not bolted, but it was locked. She had left through the door. Looking down, he saw the key had been pushed under the door. She had left, locking the door and leaving them the key to find.
Turning back into the room, in the dim light, he saw a message scrawled on the blackboard.
"Gone For Help," it said, simply. He stared at it, uncomprehending for a moment, before quietly uttering a curse. He quickly moved over to Athos and gently shook him awake.
"Martina's gone," he said, as Athos came to his senses and looked blearily over his shoulder at him.
"Gone?" he murmured, running a hand through his hair, before reality dawned on him and he pushed himself to his feet. "What are you talking about?"
Aramis nodded toward the backboard. "Where does she think she's going?"
"Good grief," Athos said, quietly, after a few moments. "I think she's going into the ravine. She told me about it. I never thought …"
"The ravine?" Aramis replied, incredulously.
"She thinks there is a way down to the river. Apparently, from there, there is a trail to the highway," he explained, looking around for his boots.
"It's madness, Athos!" Aramis exclaimed, beginning to pace. "What is she thinking?"
"Have you met Martina?" Athos replied, swiping a hand wearily down his face.
"It will be cold," Aramis replied, coming to a halt, feeling a little helpless. "And dark," he added.
"There should be a full moon, tonight," Athos offered, weakly.
They were silent for a few moments as they both took in the message on the blackboard. Their eyes dropped to the table. The torch was gone.
"In a way, it's good," Athos murmured. "We don't have to worry about keeping her safe in here, and she does have a chance. She handled herself well in the kitchen," he added.
"The gun?" Aramis said, urgently.
"I have it," Athos confirmed. "She wouldn't take it. She's gone for help, not to leave us helpless."
"That's good," Aramis confirmed. "The thing is, we won't know she's been successful until the cavalry arrives."
"That's very true," Athos sighed, pulling on his boots. He stopped for a moment and thought of the young woman, who had swung a heavy pan at his opponent's head in the kitchen without compunction. "If she can keep her head down, she could just make it," he said.
"My God, I hope so," Aramis replied. "For her sake."
"She's taken my jacket," Athos smiled as he looked at the chair and realised it had gone.
"Sensible. So, I guess it's time for us to find out just what we are up against," Aramis said.
"And also, what lighting we have," Athos replied. "I suggest initially, the roof."
"As good as anywhere," Aramis agreed.
/
Martina approached the ravine in excited trepidation, and in some sobering dread.
Huddled in Athos's leather jacket, she had made it through the trees without being seen. Athos had said they would attack at night but so far she had seen no-one, although there was the light of a powerful flash light showing occasionally behind the windows in the gym. They were slim, horizontal windows high in the wall, one of the only rooms that did not showcase the mountain vista. Ideal, she supposed, for a crew of criminals to hide out. Their van had been moved to the steps at the front of the building though, perhaps for a quick getaway when they had done what they came here to do.
Her heart ached for the two men she had left behind. She hoped they survived. She hoped she survived, because all she wanted now was to get them help. She knew she would have been a hindrance to them, but she had a little training and she knew the dangers she was about to face. Anyway, there was no way she was going to sit in that cellar on her own while they went off to face those thugs. She preferred to be doing something.
Dressed in her dark uniform shirt, trousers and trainers, and with the warmth of Athos's leather jacket, she had kept low as she scooted past the hub tubs and into the tree line. (She hoped he understood her need to take his jacket, and the torch.) From there it was a nail biting creep through the trees, trying not to make any noise or disturbance of the bushes and branches of the trees. It had taken her longer than she had hoped but finally, she reached the wooden ranch fencing on the edge of the ravine and carefully climbed over the gate.
Now, her journey would be precarious.
She dropped down quietly on the other side of the fence. She had perhaps a metre width of track under her feet. She intended to get as far as she could by moonlight and intermittent torchlight before finding a safe place to hunker down until dawn began to creep over the mountains and she could re-commence her trek. She figured that would be just before five a.m. After that, a faster pace along the river would take her to the edge of the highway and to the petrol station a little further. It was a long way, but she had always been determined. Had she told Athos she had been a Girl Scout? Perhaps not. She smiled to herself at the facial expression that would have ensued. That man could make eye rolling an Olympic sport.
She could understand how Lena had become frustrated as she settled into such a steady life in the clinic, though, truth be told, Dr Kramer had been one of the reasons she had taken the position. He had been such a kind and generous man. Unsure at her interview for the job of Receptionist, he had won her over, simply by telling her that perhaps she just needed to be in a positive place with like-minded people, in a beautiful setting, even if only for a short time, while she made her decisions. Added that she could live-in during the week, it seemed ideal at the time. Lena had known she was at a cross roads in her life after the death of her mother, and her anxiety about the future had inevitably put a strain on their relationship as she searched for some meaning and they had, in the end, argued constantly.
Perhaps too the clinic was a means for her to control the end of the relationship. The thought of Lena now though, brought a lump to her throat. The prospect of not seeing her again was a little too much to bear. Dr K was dead now. She felt her eyes tearing up, and she swallowed hard. Here then, was another cross road for her to negotiate. The death of the two soldiers she had left at the clinic was another cross she had no wish to bear. She pushed the thought away.
Straightening her shoulders, she clasped her necklace tightly between her fingers.
"Here goes, my love," she murmured. "Wish me luck."
/
Thanks for reading!